


The Passer-Ons! Helping Ghosts Pass On!

by Quillium



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 14:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19832059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillium/pseuds/Quillium
Summary: They accept that he's Phantom, of course. Kiss him on the cheek and apologize and say that they’re proud. Danny is pretty proud of them, in turn, for not turning this into a big deal or doing anything super dramatic, as they’re wont to do.Obviously, he got proud too soon, because now it’s the end of the school year and there’s a white van decked out in ridiculous ghost-themed stickers and his parents want to go on a family road trip over the summer to help Danny in his mission to help ghosts pass on.





	The Passer-Ons! Helping Ghosts Pass On!

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head for a while now but I got preoccupied with other fandoms. That being said, I'm excited to write this and I hope I manage to stick with it, because I've got lots of fun ideas for this fic.

“It’s… not as bad as it could be?”

Danny squints at the van, covered in ridiculous tags declaring things like _“Passer-ons! We’ll help your ghost pass on to a peaceful afterlife!”_ and says, slowly, “I suppose.”

Jazz crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head at the van, “No, you’re right. This is nuts. This is crazy! I’m supposed to be spending my summer volunteering and getting a part time job and joining neighbourhood associations so that I’ll get into a good University! Not—not travelling the world helping _ghosts pass on_! Do you realize how ridiculous this will sound in an application? I won’t get into any good Universities, because everyone will know that I’m the crazy girl with the crazy parents who helps ghosts pass on!”

“If it helps any,” Danny runs his fingers through his hair, “Everyone knows that ghosts are, like, a thing now, so. Y’know. You won’t be the crazy girl.”

Jazz stares at him, eyes twitching, as though to say _Danny, that is the least of my problems_.

“Danny,” Jazz says, slowly, like she thinks that he’s incompetent, “My grades are only at a 93%, which is 2% below what Universities offer academic scholarships for. I _need_ to do well.”

“Your grades are at a 93% average?” Danny says.

“I know, I know,” Jazz buries her face in her hands, “It’s because I slacked off in the first unit of chemistry and did poorly on all my labs. Go ahead, laugh it up.”

Danny shuts his mouth and does not mention the fact that he was pretty proud of himself last year for raising his grades to a 75% average. Jazz will try to comfort him and say something like _well, Danny, there are other options_ with that disturbingly sincere look on her face and—yeah. Not going down that route today.

“You know,” he changes the subject, bouncing his leg as he peers at the van, “When I said that I wanted to help the ghosts pass on into the afterlife, I didn’t think that mom and dad would think _family road trip_.”

“After the whole Phantom debacle,” Jazz is making a clear effort not to laugh at him, “you know, they were pretty eager to, uh, show their support and I guess—“

“Yeah,” Danny goes back to eyeballing the van. “Oh my god, is this my fault?”

“100%,” Jazz claps a hand to his shoulder, “Nice going, bro.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, supportive or something?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jazz scrunches up her nose, “But, you know, it’s crucial to a youth’s growth that they learn to accept their own mistakes and deal with them with gentle guiding in the right direction. Otherwise, when they grow up, they don’t own up to their faults and it could cause serious issues. It’s better to know and accept your wrongdoings and work on setting them right in a positive and encouraging environment.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get, like, any of that.”

Jazz sighs at him and ruffles his hair, “When you do bad stuff, you’ve gotta fix it, or else you turn into Dash. Do you want to be like Dash, Danny?”

“This is a really weird metaphor, Jazz.”

She shrugs, “But you get my point.”

He makes a face but doesn’t answer, which is as good as replying _yes, I do_.

“If I don’t get into a good University,” Jazz throws an arm over Danny’s shoulders and leans on him so that her whole weight rests on his shoulders, “It’s your fault. One hundred percent, totally your fault.”

“You’ll be _fine_ , Jazz,” he rolls his eyes at her.

“So you claim,” She pokes his forehead, “I’m not like you, Danny. If I don’t get into a good University, there’s not much else that I’m all that compatible _for_. My brain only works with the theoretical, I’m terrible at application.”

“You’ll be,” he grunts and pushes her off, “ _Fine_. Why are you so light?”

“Am not!” Jazz examines herself, “I’m at least a hundred pounds.”

“Light.”

“ _Average_.”

“You’re basically a feather.”

Jazz squawks indignantly, “Unbelievable!” She jumps on his back, smiling viciously when he doubles over, grunting, “There, am I light now?”

Danny transforms and floats up, twirling a little bit mid-air just to tease her. “Considering that I can literally fly with you on my back?” he grins and touches down, “Yeah, light as a feather.”

Jazz sighs and wriggles, “Okay, now set me down.”

“Mm… nope.”

“I bet that I can lift you, too!”

“Jazz,” Danny offers her a flat stare, “I’m literally made of ectoplasm. I’m a _ghost_. I’m supposed to be light.”

“Why are you like this?”

“What, loveable?”

Jazz sets her chin on Danny’s shoulders, “Okay, if you’re not putting me down, then at least bring me to the kitchen. I want ice cream.”

“Oh, I want ice cream, too!”

“Did you finish your math review?”

“…Uh…”

“Yeah,” Jazz tugs on Danny’s ears, “I don’t think so, buster.”

“I’m _basically_ done,” Danny protests, “There’s still a week until exams!”

“How far are you on your review?”

“…Like, halfway?”

“Not good enough,” Jazz huffs, “Finish your review before lunch and I’ll wait to eat the ice cream with you.”

“So bossy,” Danny grumbles.

“I thought that you wanted to raise your average?”

“Do I _have_ to?”

“Do you _want_ to?”

Danny groans as he sets Jazz down, “Why must you have so much common sense?”

“I took most of yours,” Jazz kisses him on the cheek, laughing when Danny rubs at it and mumbles _why are you like this_ , “If you need help, you know where to find me.”

“I need help,” Danny says, folding his hands in front of his chest, “Please.”

“Try it on your own, first,” Jazz waves him off, “And if you still can’t do it by yourself, then you know where to find me.”

“So cruel.”

“Finish by lunch,” Jazz waves him off, “Or I’m eating it in front of you.”

“That’s torture.”

“No,” Jazz smirks, “That’s motivation.”

Danny sighs and flies up to his room, “Consider me motivated,” he calls out and phases through his window.

Jazz sighs and takes the door.

__

If he had to pinpoint one spot where it all began, Danny would say that it started with Sidney Poindexter.

It starts with a history project, a newspaper about a suicide years and years ago, and Danny wondering how alive ghosts were, once.

It starts with Clockwork, humming as he says, “Ghosts were people, once, of course, just like your family and friends. They became ghosts because they had unfinished business, I suppose you might say. Had to wrap things up before they got sent to live their afterlife in peace. But stay in the wrong realm too long—“ he waves a hand, “—you’ve seen what happens. They turn malevolent.”

“So, so long as they finished their business,” Danny shoves his hands in his pockets, “They can live in peace and stop attacking Amity?”

“Well, basically, yes,” Clockwork blinks at Danny, “But helping someone finish their business is far different from fighting with your fists.”

Danny tries to imagine decades of fighting. Tries to imagine what will happen once he’s gone, if the portal’s still there.

And don’t get him wrong, fighting’s great, it’s awesome, it brings a kind of light, fluttery excitement, but it’s just—kinda—it’s not what he sees, when he imagines his future.

“I want Amity to live up to its name,” he says, and Clockwork might smile.

Poindexter is the first to approach him, playing with his suspenders, running his fingers over his bow tie as he sneers at Danny. “I heard that you wanted to send people to the afterlife?”

“Yeah,” Danny transforms and narrows his eyes, “Why?”

Poindexter shifts and looses some of his haughtiness, and he looks—well, kind of young. Like he’s barely Danny’s age. And he mumbles, “I’m sick of sticking around in a place like this. I want to,” he locks his jaw, “Desiree says that people in the afterlife are happy. Nicer.”

Danny stumbles to his feet and nods, “Yeah, um—yeah.”

Poindexter narrows his eyes at Danny, “Great. So—turn me back.” He pauses, and tacks on a bit out, “Please.”

“Yeah, just,” Danny turns back and wipes his palms on his pants, “What’s keeping you here?”

Poindexter shifts, and shrugs.

Danny nods, “Alright then. I’ll just—“ he tries to think, “—I’ll get Sam and Tucker.”

It takes them a month, in the end, to wrap up Poindexter’s unfinished business. They take the noose that Poindexter used to hang himself (kept by some relatives in their attic, for some weird, creepy reason) and burn it, they visit old retirement homes and speak to people who used to be bullies about their regret, they even go to the place where Poindexter’s buried and sprinkle salt over his grave just for good measure.

“The salt wasn’t necessary,” Poindexter snickers into the palm of his hand as he fades away, “I just thought that it would be funny.”

Danny rolls his eyes as Tucker waves, “Rest in peace.”

“Yeah,” Poindexter’s voice goes soft, thoughtful as he stares at his fading hands and grins at the trio, “I think that I will.”

So somehow Danny goes from being in the business of ghost-hunting to the business of helping ghosts pass on.

His parents already knew, before Poindexter. They were still sort of—processing, though. Still in shock, Jazz said. Danny didn’t really know what that meant, but it basically meant they were sort of like vegetables for a week or two. You know, out of it.

They accept it, of course. Kiss him on the cheek and apologize and say that they’re proud. Danny is pretty proud of them, in turn, for not turning this into a big deal or doing anything super dramatic, as they’re wont to do.

Obviously, he got proud too soon, because now it’s the end of the school year and there’s a white van decked out in ridiculous ghost-themed stickers and his parents want to go on a family road trip over the summer to help Danny in his mission to help ghosts pass on.

Which—is sweet. Of course. It’s great. It’s just…

“Mom, dad,” Jazz says, leaning forward, “This is nuts. You want to travel the world and help ghosts pass on. How are you going to fund this?”

Which, of course, is how Danny finds out that their family is stacked, because their parents are lead researchers on ghost studies. Apparently, they both have PhDs. Which. What.

“ _What_?” Danny blurts, “But… they’re…”

“We literally have a lab in our basement,” Jazz says into her pillow, facedown on the bed, “How did I not realize? Our parents have invented and patented so many inventions. They literally invented a force field. A FORCE FIELD, Danny. How was I this _blind_?”

“They’re _our parents_ ,” Danny says to the wall, “ _How_ did _they_ get PhDs?”

“They’re crazy enough,” Jazz continues mumbling in her pillow, “They’re intelligent, objectively speaking…”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Danny rakes his fingers through his hair, “PhDs? _Dad_? Mom, _maybe_ , but _dad_ is—“

“My whole life,” Jazz mourns, “I’ve been _blind_.”

“— _Insane_. Oh my _god_ , they’re not just nuts, they’re _smart_ , too—“

“ _PhDs_. I thought that mom and dad were being ridiculous when they said that getting PhD was something that anyone could do but if _they_ got them—“

“They are _literally_ mad scientists—“

“—Okay, let’s think about this rationally.”

Danny nods.

Jazz nods back.

They nod at each other for a while, at loss of how to proceed.

Then Jazz shoves her face in a pillow and starts to scream.

Danny, who’s still pretty much at loss for what to do, contemplates joining her.

And so the road trip begins.

**Author's Note:**

> My [ tumblr](http://quilliumwrites.tumblr.com)


End file.
